I pushed open the door to my new house and dramatically waved my hand while bowing my head like I was a Stewart.
"Welcome to my humble abode, dear guest." I said and asked my head, smiling happily. "It's my first time having a guest over, haha. But please, make yourself comfortable. Shoes off, jacket hung up—" I paused as I saw the menacing glare he was giving me but that was far from enough to scare me. I chuckled and teased him instead. "...oh, wait, you don't like being told what to do, right? Right?" I edged closer towards him.
I was like the itch he couldn't scratch.
"Well, fine. Keep your jacket on, look scary, I don't mind." I said, shrugging my shoulders as I walked away.
But Sung-min didn't respond. He just scanned the place, his cold aura pulsing as if he were trying to detect something hidden.
Sure, treat me like a criminal. Not like I have feelings to like, pft.
Oh right, I was the one who asked you to do this, haha.
I smiled at him knowingly as he kept scanning.
"Don't worry. You can check each and every single inch of this house but I assure you, I have no suspicious lab equipment here, haha. No monster corpses in the basement either. Just one clean room and a warm bed that can fit two—"
"Stop." His sharp glare was enough to cut glass but I simply pouted and turned away.
Someone doesn't like jokes, huh?
"Fine, fine." I chuckled, tossing the groceries on the counter in the kitchen and speaking loudly so he could hear me from the living room. "But you're still staying for dinner. Don't even think about escaping now."
He stayed silent again, but the fact that he hadn't walked out yet was enough proof that I'd won yet another round.
As I unpacked the food, I felt his eyes boring into my back. Doubting everything about me.
"You know, Sung-min," I said, humming as I took out bowls from the cabinet. "You keep saying you don't trust me, but look at you. You followed me home, carried my groceries and are now standing in my kitchen like a husband who doesn't want to admit he's already moved in."
I rolled my eyes back to see his reaction but he remained silent.
I closed my eyes, thinking he wouldn't say anything. Maybe because he didn't have what to say or he felt no need to explain his actions.
But then he spoke.
"You're dangerous," he muttered, almost like he was talking to himself.
I paused, smirking faintly at my reflection in the pot of water.
"And yet… you're still here."
I plucked an apron from the rack and slipped it over my head with a grin, planning to mess with him a little more.
"Anyway, wanna help me prepare?" I asked, "It'll definitely be faster for four hands than two."
Sung-min didn't even glance at me. He turned around and walked back to the living room, his silence heavier than any rejection I'd ever gotten in my life.
I expected that, of course. I chuckled softly, tying the strings of my apron tighter as I got to work.
I chopped the vegetables, sliced the meat, set the broth to boil, and it all came so naturally. And yet, as the rising steam fogged the kitchen windows, a wave of melancholy tugged at me.
Hotpot.
In our past life, Sung-min used to love my hotpot so much that we were having it almost every night.
He would complain about the spice. Can you imagine it? An ice user complains about pepper and looks for a glass of water to cool his tongue. And then he didn't stop there, he'd dig right back in like a man possessed.
For someone who kept complaining about the spice, he oddly couldn't do without eating it.
That was how much he loved my hotpots.
The memory stung a bit, but I smiled anyway. It's not like we couldn't go back to those days.
This was still my chance. I'll make the hotpot so good that he'll come back every evening cause he just cannot forget the taste.
When the broth finally began to simmer, releasing that rich, nostalgic scent, I wiped my hands and walked into the living room.
There he was, seated stiffly on the couch, the glow of his Esper watch reflecting off his cold eyes. His brows were furrowed, like he was annoyed.
Was he being called away?
I frowned. Hopefully not, right? Who was going to eat all that food if he left?
"Something wrong?" I asked, leaning against the doorway.
Sung-min raised his head, his expression unreadable.
"It's nothing for you to be concerned with."
Of course. Typical.
I strolled closer, plopping down on the armrest beside him with all the nonchalance in the world.
"Mm. But if it makes you ditch dinner, then it's very much my concern. Don't break my heart, Sung-min. I slaved away in that kitchen just for you." I blew him a kiss but it looked like he got goosebumps from how cringe I was being and shifted a bit.
Come on man, I already expressed my feelings to you multiple times. Can't you take a hint?
Is what I'd like to tell him but that glare in his eyes made me think twice and simply rolled my eyes away.
Sung-min didn't answer verbally and instead, his gaze drifted back to the watch, the cold blue light painting his fingers.
Whatever it was, it troubled him, and I had a feeling what it was.
You know, what are the odds that the very same neighborhood he went to have dinner with a suspicious fellow became the place he was designated to patrol?
Anyone would find this situation odd and troubling.
He glanced at me, his eyes speaking more than his lips would.
His suspicion just grew quite a lot.
I guiltily rolled my eyes away, avoiding his poking glares. Let's just pretend we don't know what's going on, haha.